This Is What I Call Life
by MouHitoriNoKei
Summary: (AU) Ryou Bakura is living a life where misery is his only companion...until an old friend seems to brighten his days...(RyouXMalik, RR, No Flames!)
1. No Looking Back

'Ello, loyal readers, Kei here once again with yet another yaoi fanfic for all of you to, hopefully, enjoy. The intended pairings for this one is, of course, MalikXRyou. But, will it turn out that way? ::Evil grin:: You'll just have to read and find out, ne? Anyway, not to bore you, but a quick rundown on the inspiration for this story...I was listening to one of the NOW: That's What I Call Music CDs, and City High's song "What Would You Do?" happened to be on it. I listened to it a few times, and the lyrics suddenly hit me and I thought 'Hey, that may make a good YGO fic' So, hence my story "This Is What I Call Life." This story may or may not have lime/lemons in it, I don't know. I haven't gotten far enough in the plot to make the choice. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Now, onward for the disclaimer!

Malik: ::Walks out with the Millennium Rod, looking to the left, the right, then directly forward, extending the Rod:: YU-GI-OH AND ITS CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO KEI, RA DAMN IT! ::Takes a deep breathe and grins:: I've always wanted to do that...

So hurtful...anyway...Enjoy Chapter 1 of "This Is What I Call Life"!

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Chapter 1: No Looking Back

He wasn't one to go to parties or drink, though tonight he was feeling a bit more open to the idea. When his friends had called with the offer for a night out, he wasn't about to decline. Running his fingers through his ashen hair, he examined himself in the mirror, disgusted at what he saw_. I never saw anyone who looked so dull_, he sighed as he ruffled up his hair a bit, attempting to make it look somewhat presentable. His eyes flickered with disappointment, as he saw nothing more then the same old boring self he saw in the mirror everyday. This plainness disgusted him, and it had since he was in high school. Oh, the glorious days of high school where the only people who survive are those who have six-inch waists and a double D chest, twelve-inch biceps and absolutely no personality. So, in a nutshell, he failed in the quest for popularity and faded like so many others before him. His kindness died and he became a drifter, and no, not the drifter you're thinking of. A drifter in his eyes was one who used to be good, pure, innocent, until corrupted by the 'intelligent' minds of the pack of vicious hyenas whose jowls watered with delight when a new victim stepped into the land of the jocks and the preps. He was sucked in and by the time he was eighteen, in his senior year, he had tried about six different kinds of apple flavored alcohol, snorted any powder he could get his hands on and flunked out his senior year. Realizing the stupidity of his decisions, he returned to the prison and finished his second senior year at the top of his class. He graduated in the class of 2001, alongside a bunch of former juniors. How pathetic he felt, graduating at the age of nineteen amongst those who barley hit puberty, their faces covered in faint, red blemishes, and their voices just below breaking the sound barrier of being able to classify reaching puberty.

He escaped his small home town with its' population just peeking 3,000. But, did he go to college like he should and could have? Of course not! He disappointed Mother and pursued his career as a writer, a literal example of a starving artist. He spent most of his evenings at the local bar with nothing but a notebook and a pencil, its' base and eraser nibbled on. Sipping away on his apple induced vodka, he would write stories of a man at the end of his rope, a man whose eyes showed nothing but faded dreams and distant memories of a better life. What a bedtime story. No faeries with special powers, no bride and groom with a beautiful child in arm, nothing. In his stories, he did not grant wishes and bring forth the magic forgotten by many generations. Quite the contrary, he invoked fear and an uncertain darkness upon the heart. He showed the readers, young and old, the horrors, terror, and bitter hatred the world was filled with, and he did this with no mercy, explaining in depth how cold and lonely the nights were, how dark the abyss really was in the heart of one who didn't care, and how much he hated the world in general. With an array of immensely intimidating imagery and purely fear provoking personifications, he was a pioneer of his time, though there was just one problem, and that's that no one knew of him. He was one of those writers who hung out in the little cafés where poets spoke freely of many things, and bongos were the coolest instruments. He didn't care though. He wrote for his own enjoyment, and that's all that mattered.

The activates for the night were still undecided, all that was known amongst the group of four men was they were going to get drunk and get laid, the average want of men in their mid twenties. The fifth man, the odd man out, our protagonist, sat in the back seat of his friend's Jaguar, crushed in between the fat guy who smelled like he hadn't bathed since the showerhead was invented, and the other guy whose hair looked so greasy, it could easily be mistaken for a rat with a good hair day. The odors wafting towards the ashen haired one were enough to gag the Rotor Rooter man. He tried his hardest not to breathe, though it was somewhat necessary if he wished to continue the life he claimed to hate, though it didn't seem like such a bad idea to him, ending his life. He had contemplated it many times, but he always came back to the same conclusion, _As hopeless as I am, I cannot die until I know that at least one person will be at my funeral and I want at least one person to care... _It was a frail dream he held onto with everything he had within himself, and he would never let it die. He knew that one day, he would find someone who would ease his fragile soul and put him to rest, someone who would understand him and love him for who he was and never try to change him, though that was just another dream short-lived. Breaking out of the silence that set him apart from all the other babbling idiots surrounding him, he looked up, auburn eyes nothing more then slits, eyes half lidded. The stench from the two behemoths caused his eyes to tear.

Before Ryou had a chance to break the silence, the one with the rat on his head spoke up, running his elongated tongue over his lips. "So, Ryou...you finally gonna get some tonight?" He laughed a laugh that smelled just as foully as the one who sat to Ryou's left. Swallowing hard, trying to keep his late lunch down, he replied in a soft hum.

"Doubt it, Eiji. You seem to be the girl magnet." The whole car exploded with laughter. What Ryou was really thinking was, _Okay, Eiji, I'll get a girl when you get some shampoo. _To himself, he snickered, knowing his secret comment was one that the men in the car may have agreed on. He never vocalized his witty retorts, for he already had enough enemies; he didn't need anymore.

The young man in the front passenger seat let out a soft chuckle, turning his head to look at the ashen haired one, flashing him a gentle smile. "Ryou, don't let Eiji pressure you." Flicking back stray strands of crimson hair, one dark scarlet orb glistening with a kindness that Ryou wasn't quite used to. The other of the orbs were hidden behind the bangs that had just settled back into place after being casually rearranged.

"Yeah." Replied the driver, dark violet hair that rested in a short rattail that tickled the back of his neck. He had eyes of a deep hunter, which glanced at him through the rearview mirror. He smiled as well. "Keisuke and me know that you'll find someone who loves you...and not someone who's after your wallet." Keisuke and the driver, Saichi, burst out in hysteric laughter, as did the one to Ryou's left, Heiwa. Eiji grimaced as he lifted his arm to smack the back of Saichi's head, though this wasn't the best idea on Ryou's part, because the horrid stench was pushed towards him to the worse degree as Eiji's arm was lifted, the horrible scent from between his arm and the nearly soaked material of his filthy t-shirt wafted right into Ryou's face. He held his breath for as long as he could, trying not to inhale the ferocious stench.

_No...no...I can't die...not this young..._Was all Ryou's mind screamed as when he tried to roll down his window, the only source of fresh air and possibly, his only survival, the automatic lock didn't hum as it would when the window would retract. _Dammit, no...Saichi has the window lock on again...this is it...I'm gonna die...I'm gonna--_

"Finally!" Screamed Keisuke, bringing Ryou out of his mental will, where he left everything and anything he had to his shabby lap cat, Miko, who probably had more intelligence then any of the oafs in the car (Though he did have respect for the two who sat in front of him, Keisuke and Saichi. They were the only normal guys Ryou knew, and he admired their firm grip on reality.) Ryou looked up, auburn eyes tearing as he saw the blindly bright lights of their finally destination, _A strip club? _"We're here! All right!" Overly enthused, Keisuke ripped open the car door and exited the sanctum, which smelled heavily of the foulest of body odor. Saichi chuckled at his best friend's antics, settling the car in the parking space, as he too exited, following closely by Eiji and Heiwa. Ryou, whose movements were quite minimal except for the occasional fresh breathe in and out, looked up at the flashing neon sign posted above the door in, **LIVE NUDES! LIVE SHOWS!**.

"Ryou, come on!" Saichi called, after noticing Ryou was still in the car, eyes set on the vivid lights.

Getting a malignant smirk upon his lips, Eiji whispered over to Heiwa. "I told you, he has a screw loose. Even bright colors seem to interest him." An uproar of laughter hinted to Saichi and Keisuke that the two bumbling fools were at it again, as in unison, lifted their hands and smacked their respective moron's heads. Saichi, as usual, took Eiji and Keisuke, Heiwa. "What did you--?!"

"Leave Ryou alone." Snapped the crimson haired one, as the violet haired one nodded in agreement.

All of this commotion had brought Ryou out of his trance as he rose, walking over towards the group. His eyes, as usual, seemed empty, void of all emotion. The group reconvened and began walking towards the entrance, the two behemoths cursing under their breaths. The ashen haired one stayed behind, as if he were beneath the ones before him, his eyes tracing the cold ash concrete, hands jammed in his loose jean pockets. His slender fingers fumbled with the loose change that jingled at the bottom of his faded Levis. His fingernails connected with the cold copper of the few pennies among the change, and a shiver raced through him. So cold, like Ryou's heart, soul, eyes. In many ways, he wished this life he lived wasn't his, lonely and bitter. His fingers then rested motionless in his pockets as his steps echoed those of the four men before him.

Throwing the doors of the homely looking club open, the men gawked, ohhed and ahhed. Ryou didn't notice what could be so shocking, as all he could see was the backsides of two of his rather ugly friends. The four seemed to drift away from the fifth, Ryou's vision now untainted by the rears of the bulls, just to be tainted by the scene before him.

Bodies intertwined with poles made of the dullest silver, skin against skin, lips brushing teasingly against lips, all of which filled Ryou's mind. He took a weak step forward, more of the small club being exposed to him. A linoleum stage with a ramp that extended out almost halfway onto the floor, carpeted with a splash of dark violet, which matched the walls of the same sinister indigo. The lights were rather dim, adding a touch of mystery, an air of erotic fear. Never would somebody walk into a land where the walls and floor looked as dark as the underside of a raven's wings and be comfortable, at home. His eyes darted from left to right, right to left, seeing bodies of both beautiful men and women entangled in a lustful embrace, though it wasn't what Ryou had been used to. He was used to, thanks to television, seeing a man and a woman slipping their respective tongues into the other's mouth. This was far from what Ryou was used to, seeing two men on his right grinding against each other, pure ecstasy on their faces. He backed up from the new sight, and accidentally bumped backs with two beautiful women, ensnared in each other's arms, lips plastered on each other's neck and lips. Excusing himself rather quickly, he noticed the women and men didn't mind his presence, even flinch, as they continued expressing their love openly and freely. He had never seen anything like it, not caring about cruel opinions and harsh words that may be throw at them. Ryou wished he could be like that, unaffected by other's hurtful words. They seemed so free, able to live a full life without having to worry about ridicule, free to live, love, and be themselves. Ryou's admiration was infinite.

Suddenly, the lights seemed to become dimmer then they already were. All around him grew silenced, but soon roared again with ecstatic applause and intimidating cat calls, as on the stage, a work of true beauty and chic. The lights soon focused on this mosaic of tan and gold upon the linoleum stage. Ryou's eyes focused steadily upon the figure, elegant copper skin covered in revealing golden cloth, barley covering his assets. Soon after the shadow's appearance, music of the most exotic degree blared over the speakers which signaled the form to begin swaying his hips hypnotically and give everyone who would watch a show they wouldn't soon forget.

Fast tempos and a rhythmic beat set his body into twist and turns Ryou thought impossible with the body's certain limitations, but this body seemed to surpass them with ease. He moved closer to the stage, close enough to be able to see the sweat encasing his body, trickling down his trim figure. As the figure frolicked around the stage, blonde tresses scattered, filling the air with a vibrant glow. Awe filled Ryou, his eyes watched every movement made by the figure, whose body arched, cooing for attention from those who watched. Soon, there was nothing protecting the ecru body from the eyes of all the sex hungry men and women watching, which bothered not the body, for its' beauty couldn't be matched or compared to. It was to be shown, displayed, and it did make money. The humidity of the club only added to the intensity as the pole was now the body's next victim. Wrapping shapely legs around the slender silver shaft, the body was thrown into a spiriting turn, entrancing and impressing the crowd hungrily watching, the bystanders letting out degrading catcalls and drunkenly spitting out 'Wanna come home with me tonight?' and 'Oh, baby!'. Ryou wasn't hearing this; he was only watching the body, whose performance was over. The applauds escalated into the wild cheering. A rain of green flew onto the stage, dollar bills, which were picked up just as quickly as they were thrown. To the disapproval of a few fans, the body soon retreated behind silken indigo curtains.

Soon, the people were entertained by yet another attractive figure, this of a women with, as Ryou thought of it, 'more boobs that brains', but Ryou couldn't let go of the one who was absent. His mind raced, not knowing why the thought of the dancer was lingering, why the shimmer of his body entranced him so. _H-he looks so familiar, like I've seen him before. But...maybe I should...no..._He began to walk towards the exit, hoping to be able to catch a taxi and get home, where he would grab a cup of black coffee, sit in his run down apartment, lacking of heat and running water, and sulk. This was the life Ryou lived, no excitement, the same routine, which is what made Ryou storm back towards the stage, in search of the one thing exciting and new that entered Ryou's life.

Speaking to one of the bouncers, he asked about the tanned one who was on the stage a few moments ago, and if he could get a chance to speak with him. Removing thick black sunglasses, revealing eyes looking drained of all life, as if they had never left the dim light of the club, he explained to Ryou about taking one of the dancers to the back room, where fantasies would be reenacted for those willing to pay, and Ryou was. Slipping the big man two fifties, he signaled for someone to retrieve the one Ryou requested. The ashen haired one was taken into the backroom, one a bit more festive then the entire club. The walls were a frosty lilac, though the carpeting still remained the dark violet. Leather couches and seats were scattered amongst the setup, as was a chest with a golden latched locked. Ryou had no idea what could be kept in that chest, nor did he have any interest in knowing. He only sat himself in the corner and waited, waited for the one whose appearance left a mark in Ryou's mind.

After waiting for but a few moments, the beaded curtains were pulled back, and a figure slipped through the opening, as Ryou's eyes focused in the dim light. _This is it, Ryou...most likely, the craziest thing you've ever done...don't look back._

He didn't.

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So, how'd ya like it? Please leave some passionate reviews for me so I know if you like, hate or...eh...hehe. Oh! And before I go...the four characters in the fic alongside Ryou are based upon myself and three others...Don't worry, we really don't make any other major effects on the story...or do we...? You'll just have to wait...but Keisuke is, of course, me. Saichi is my bestest buddy Sai. Heiwa is our friend Iwa, and Eiji...well...he's just an asshole we met at AnimeNext 2004 that we hope NEVER to see again...that's why he's an asshole in this story.

I bet you're all wondering the same thing...'Who's the dancer?! Oh! I know!' Well, most likely, who you think it is is who it is...but...you'll just have to wait for Chapter 2, now won't you? Hope to see you back for Chapter 2!


	2. Second Chance At A First Impression

Well, I got a good reaction to this story, which makes me happy. Anyway, here's chapter 2. I'm thinking about doing some...::Giggles:: Citrus in this, but I'm still thinking about it. Anyone wanna see some? - I'm such a tease. Anyway...let me thank some people....

KentouKurige: I am the angst queen, I know. Leave my grammer alone. I think I have the best grammar in this group. ::Raspberry:: Anyway...Eiji is the name stupidhead, Justin wanted for his chibi, and I needed more people to make fun of, hence, Eiji and Heiwa. You may make a cameo in this one too...I think I found a spot for you. Thanks for reviewing, uma-chan.

FeelaG101: Funny? I'm still a bit confused on how it's funny...but thanks for reviewing anyway! I'm glad you liked it.

Okay, I think that's it...so...on with the mighty disclaimer.

**::DISCLAIMER::**

Malik: ::Rides out upon Ryou whose is dressed like a reigndeer, dressed like Santa:: HO HO HO! Merry Uploading!

Ryou: o.o;;

Malik: Kei does not own Yu-Gi-Oh, me, or my little pet down here.

Ryou: Call me a pet once more, Malik, and you're sleeping on the couch!

Malik: ;; Enjoy the story, everyone!

**Chapter 2: A Second Chance at a First Impression**

Ryou swallowed hard as the form moved closer and closer to him, the figure now dressed in a flowing robe, looking as if it were made from the same material as the curtains on the stage, though the color was a bit lighter then the curtains. The robe dragged soundlessly behind him, rippling and shifting as he did. The apprehensive one finally looked up, being eye level with the dancer's finely toned midsection. A moment of silence splashed over them, the dancer being the first to speak in a low, seductive tone,  
"So, I hear you're looking for some action." He let out a soft chuckle, crouching down so his eyes met Ryou's, who was quickly dragged into the endlessly entrancing lavender orbs embedded in the russet skin. The performer of erotica ran a slender finger down Ryou's cheek, seeming to purr out his next statement. "I'll give you what you want. I know what yo--"  
"Wait..." Ryou softly intervened to the other's surprise. "Could you tell me your name, please?" His polite tone took the dancer by surprise, as he couldn't figure what a man this innocent, this frail, would be doing in a place like this, a place sheathed in the darkest of darkness. The tanned one couldn't say no to a customer, nor would he. In sleek, smooth movements, he slid his slender figure down into Ryou's lap, running the palm of his hand down his alabaster cheek. He let out a soft giggle, his lips heading towards the customer's ear, where he whispered his name softly, lips barley brushing against his earlobe.  
"Malik."  
Ryou's eyes widened as he pulled away from any further somewhat pleasing contact that was providing for him as he stared into the violet orbs, auburn glistening with immense confusion. "M-malik? Malik Ishtar?"  
This now caused the dancer's eyes to widen as he picked himself up from the other's lap, bewilderment coming over him. "H-how do you know that?"  
Swallowing hard, Ryou stood, head lowered, bangs dangling before his eyes. "Y-you graduated in my class, remember? Class of 2001, Domino High." Lifting his eyes to meet the tanned one, a few droplets of sweat clung to his bangs, as again, he swallowed hard. "It's me, Ryou...Ryou Bakura. You were in a few of my classes with me, remember?" He saw nothing more then Malik taking a few steps back, stumbling a bit over an oddly placed oak table in the middle of the dark room. His blonde bangs clung to his face with the same light sweat that plagued the one opposite him. He remembered quite fondly actually, of the days of high school, seeing that shy ashen haired boy sitting in the back of all of his classes, always looking so incredibly lonely, miserable. The blonde always wished to talk to him, longed to be his friend, but the blonde was with the popular crowd that only shunned him and inflicted random acts of cruelty, tripping him as he walked from the long cafeteria line with his tray of food, so he'd spill it in front of the entire lunch, adding an extra chemical to his chemistry project so he would get a compound that spelled out explosive. Everything came back to Malik in a jolt of guilt as he gazed up into the chocolate orbs of his former classmate.  
"Ry...Ryou?" Malik's tone was very low, as if full of immense regret for things of the past that Ryou, most likely, had forgotten. Those times were what Ryou had tried his hardest to forget, wanting every memory of the time that wasn't the present to cease and desist. Not one to dwell upon the past, Ryou looked into the eyes of his former classmate and, to his own surprise, a small smile danced upon Ryou's lips. This was new to him, actually being happy to see someone. Even though Malik was immensely cruel to him, ignored him, and shunned him throughout the five years he attended the high school, Malik was the closest thing to a friend Ryou had. He remembered it quite fondly, actually.

_ Tapping his pencil furiously against the paper, the sweat trickled down his forehead. Panicked, he began to fill in random A's and B's, an occasional C and D on his test paper. This test was his final exam, and would decide if he would pass or fail his second time around in twelfth grade chemistry. He gnawed furiously at the butt of his pencil, tasting the bitter bits of the eraser, which was wasted to nothing more then a thin layer of pink nothingness. This was the only test he hadn't studied for, only because his neighbors, once again, were showing each other their love in a very loud and obnoxious manner. Chemistry, Ryou's worst subject, was the only thing denying him a diploma. The chemical nonsense that sat in front of Ryou started to blur, blend together, looking like nothing more then a slush of letters and numbers, all in thin, illegible black ink. He whimpered to himself softly, resting his spinning head upon his hand, elbow resting soundly on his desk.  
Time was against him as there were but ten minutes left, then the test would be over and Ryou would surly fail Chemistry. He knew for a fact that the teacher was out to get him, only in Ryou's paranoid mind. Everything on that paper looked like gibberish written by a disgruntled man who didn't want to be a chemistry teacher, but somehow got caught in the profession and wanted to make all of his students go through Hell and back just to pass a single test. He averaged out with at least a ninety in all his other classes, though with chemistry, he was teetering over the edge with a flat seventy, though with all his good grades, he was still at the top of his class. Why did he care so much about getting higher in a subject he didn't need? Simple. Just the sight of his teacher's smug, corn fed grin, only growing as he failed, pissed him off to no end.  
Tick, tock, tick, tock. Five minutes remained as he tapped the sheet furiously. This is it, I'm gonna fail his class, thought Ryou sorrowfully. He was brought out of his pessimistic thoughts by a low 'Psst'. Looking around causally, he finally was drawn to look to his left, a blonde looking dead at him with a solemn, sturdy look etched upon his concrete face. Ryou took but a few moments to examine the face of the one who had caught his attention. He had very defining features in his facial area, sticking tanned skin that seemed to shimmer eerily in the light. Set in the beautiful russet tone were two beautiful lavender gems, light in color with a darker ring around the soft lilac, giving them an odd shine, a striking spark. Both of his eyes were not completely visible, bangs of sun bleached blonde hanging lazily before them, clinging to the sides of his face and falling along his shoulders. His build looked like that of a normal high school student, though there was something fascinating about him that Ryou couldn't quite grasp. Again, his thoughts were interrupted, this time by the soft crinkling of a small piece of paper. The sound was very subtle, unheard by the professor, who sat proudly at the front of the class wearing his white lab coat, discoloring appearing from underneath his arms. He was quite a heavy set man, very stout, so the summer testing was something he did dread, being locked in an uncomfortable room with kids he despised and no air conditioning. The confused Ryou looked from the paper to the boy, back to the paper, and once again, to the boy, a perplexed expression imprinted upon his alabaster face. They kept eye contact, which Ryou found very hard to do with the tan boy, because his eyes just seemed to grab your soul, being able to contort it any which way because of their hypnotic beauty. Ryou blinked a few times, to make sure he didn't get sucked in to the abysmal brilliance. The boy had thin lips, very precise and delicate in design. They moved very slowly and exactly to mouth the words, 'Take it.' Ryou cocked an eyebrow as he understood the message, reaching out two fingers to retrieve the snippet of paper, the very tip of his index fingers brushing against the tanned palm. He felt chills crash through him as he returned his message to his own desk, beginning to unfold the piece of paper as if it were a precious treasure map from the days of pirates and hunts for lost gold. His eyes widened as the contents of the paper amazed him. Could this be? Was he dreaming? The answers to the chemistry final! All of them! He threw a glance up towards the blonde boy who had guaranteed Ryou a passing grade and a well deserved 'ha ha' to be directed towards the professor, his head was down and turned away from Ryou, his test paper already completed and turned face down on the desk. What if these answers are wrong?, thought Ryou, until the one sweating profusely stood and announced the two minute warning. I'll take my chances, was the conclusion Ryou came to as he swift and sloppily filled in the bubbles, thanking the stars for the kind stranger.  
He did pass, much to the professor's chagrin. He never did get to thank the boy who helped him... _

Until now. Like the first day they had made eye contact, Ryou was still having trouble looking him in the eye. They seemed to have grown more beautiful, more elegant in the years past, about five years if Ryou's math was correct (Which it always was.). The violet captured Ryou's imagination and ran away with it, just as the first time they met. The tanned one was rather dumbstruck, as he said absolutely nothing. He continued to shift uneasily, no words coming to him. He was trapped in thought, What the hell can I say to him? I mean, I treated him like shit...I know it was just stupid high school crap but...  
"I-I've been wanting to thank you for the past five years." Whispered Ryou, sitting back down in the soft leather couch, feeling his entire body melt into the, most likely, imported leather. "I mean, the reason is probably stupid, and you most likely have forgotten, but I'm just that idiot who seems to hold on to things like that so..." He stopped himself, realizing how much of an ass he had just made of himself. He felt himself blush, eyes veering away from the gaze of Malik, who now wore his own petite smile. He saw a childish quality left in Ryou, one that he had lost in a brutal battle with the night. Though Ryou at first wore a solemn face, one lacking all emotion, his expression shifted to one of sheer joy, that smile growing ever so slightly as the moments passed. Each second seemed to linger, dragging on as they only continued to gaze into each other's eyes. The silence was soft, easing Ryou's frazzled nerves as he once more began to remember what Malik had done for him. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "I want to thank you for what you did in Chemistry. I mean...I never--"  
"Never say never, Ryou." The ashen haired one forgot how powerful his voice was, how it echoed softly and endlessly. He ran his slender fingers through locks of blonde that went astray as he sat alongside Ryou on the couch, his back against the armrest. He tried to pull the robe further over his body, now slightly embarrassed to be seen like this in front of someone he knew since the days of high school, though in all truth, he had nothing to be embarrassed about. Ryou secretly enjoyed the creases his body made against the soft satin robe, how his package would shyly peek through small rifts in the material. He, oddly enough, even admired how Malik's legs were as slender as those of a woman, though muscular, like those of a man. In Ryou's eyes, the one opposite him was quite an amazing person. "You would have passed Mr. Mouto's with out without my help." Malik fiddled nervously with his fingers, peering up at Ryou, the curtain of blonde limiting his sight. "I just, ya know, assisted you a bit."  
The line of work Malik seemed to be in at the time made Ryou's mind spin after hearing the last comment. _No! Malik can't be like that! I mean...yes...he's a exotic performer, ah hell! He's a stripper! But...he seemed...nothing like this back in school. _Ryou looked away from the sensual gaze of his former classmate. "Um..." Stammered the ashen haired one as he chuckled nervously. He wished to ask him many a question, all would come out wrong and sound like an insult. It wasn't normal for someone to ask another straight out 'So, what made you want to shake your ass in front of people?' It was something Ryou had to think about carefully, decide his words with consideration for the one before him. He pondered, that is, until Malik broke the short silence.

"By the look on your face, I guess you're wondering why about a lot of things, this in particular." He had referred to the robe that left little to the imagination, to the atmosphere that invoked feelings of sinful lust. Ryou nodded stupidly, not knowing what else to say.

"I mean, you were at the top of the science class. You could have--"

"I know I could have, but the thing that matters is that I didn't." His voice seemed to drop a bit as his expression shifted rather quickly. That seductive glint in his eyes had returned as he pushed the surprised male so his back met the back of the couch. Rather quickly, he mounted Ryou's lap and started to glide his finely toned body along the ashen haired one's quivering body. Ryou bit his tongue, trying to hold back the whimperish moans welling in the back of his throat. His eyes squeezed shut tightly, though they wouldn't remain that way. Slowly, they fluttered open and he gasped at the sight. Malik's beautiful carved face right in front of his, their eyes meeting. They gazed at each other for what seemed like eternity, Malik still gliding his frame back and forth into Ryou's. Faster and faster he moved his slender frame, the sweat slowly starting to run down the side of his tan face. Ryou's mouth hung slack, tossing his head back as this masked pleasure was inflicted upon him. He felt his lower half tighten, as he was now fully aware that Malik's actions had struck a cord, aroused him to the point where he hurt to even think about it. The bronze skinned one let out his own grunts and errotic moans, throwing his head back to his blonde locks exploded in a golden rain. His lower half contorted, making sure his own erect self rubbed teasingly against Ryou's.

"Mmm...M-malik..." Whimpered out Ryou, his almond shaped nails digging pleadingly into the leather sofa. Malik's eyes shot open at this soft moan, as that is exactly what Malik gave him, more. He didn't know why, but doing this with anyone else wouldn't have made Malik blush the way he did. His hips girated more quickly now, Ryou's entire body becoming limp under Malik's forceful pushing. Both were close to release, they knew it. Ryou tried to withold his, though it was to no avail. With a few more provocations of his enclothed errection, Ryou had soiled himself, releasing with a soft sigh. Malik did the same as he seemed to collapse onto Ryou's shoulder. Breathing heavily, he rested his head upon the soft feel of the other's cotton shirt. The whole situation was rather confusing to Ryou, though he put his arm around Malik, rubbing his back. He could only listen to Malik's soft breathing for a few moments, until it seemed to esclate a bit when Ryou realized the blonde was trying to speak. "Hmm? Malik, what are you trying to say?"

"I-I'm sorry, Ryou..." Was the only response he received. This caused Ryou's eyes to widen slightly as cautiously guided his hands to each side of Malik's face, lifting it slowly, gently, so they were eye to eye. He examined Malik's face carefully, seeing a small hint of sadness, regret. Softly, he cleared the sweat bathed bangs from the tanned one's face and flashed him a slight smile.

"Why are you sorry, Malik?"

"What I did...I didn't mean to..."

"Would you feel better if I said I enjoyed it?" Malik's expression completely changed as he looked up into Ryou's eyes to see that the was the truth. He rose and he felt renewed. He didn't know why this felt so different, why Ryou's eyes looked so innocent even in the heat of passion. He didn't know why he would have liked to do it again. Relief splashed over him as he sighed, pulling his dishevled robe over his body once again. Ryou rose and ran his slender fingers through his fluffy ashen locks. Again, his eyes did nothing but examine Malik's body. They ran up and down the length of his beautiful body, searching for every curve, every crevasse, every small tecnaquality, which there were none. He seemed to be pefect, though Ryou sensed that something troubled him...something that wasn't only skin deep, but that plagued his heart.

"Hey, you wanna get outta here?" Malik abruptly spoke, as Ryou took this as 'You've already embarrassed me enough by making me dance for you. Just leave.' Ryou nodded sorrowfully and turned to leave, but he was stopped by a warm hand gracing his shoulder. Ryou turned, only to be met with Malik's eyes, soft lilac hues intrancing and hypnotizing. The tanned one rested his chin softly upon Ryou's shoulder as he whispered. "I mean, together."


	3. Reckless Abandonment

Yeah! ::Squeals:: I love this story so much and now, Chappy 3 is up. I mean, I don't think a lot of people like this story very much. ::Pouts:: Maybe that will change over the course of the story...well...here's the thank yous!

Ladywolf (Terri): Thanks for the compliment! ::TackleHugs:: Well, consider this update your Christmas gift!

DeadKitty1: KAREN! ::Tackles:: What's wrong with my descriptions? I like scaring you! Thanks for reading, Karen! ::Huggles::

KentouKurige: Shouri! Well, you're in this one, Umako. Hope you enjoy!

Anyway, enjoy! I'll say it again, I am very proud of this story...makes me happy So, yeah...more babbling! So, Read and Review pwease, and no flames. Flames make me sad I'm so random today.

**DISCLAIMER**: ::Malik comes out in a Santa outfit:: Well, it's only six days til Christmas...so...Merry Early Christmas! Kei doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh, Ryou, or myself. She does however own the four characters mentioned in Chapter 1 and she does own the new character introduced in this chapter. Yay! Kei owns something!

Kei: --;

((NOTE: There will be some stupid spelling errors in this chapter because this new computer I have doesn't have Microsoft Word, so I can't use spell check...I have to use , and it doesn't catch on everything, so bare with me))

**Chapter 3: Reckless Abandonment**  


Ryou didn't remember it being so dark outside, the streets looking as if a blanket of the most unholy black had been thrown over the streets, which were usually ablaze with hazy light. A faint drizzle fell, soaking the streets in the tears of the angels weeping weakly for those who fell from grace. The cool droplets felt somewhat refreshing upon Ryou's skin, the club's muggy atmosphere creating a small line of sweat upon his pale brow. He much rather preferred the rain, the cold, the night, for it was someplace he could truly be himself and not have to hide beyond the facade of a smile and a happy existence. It was a futile lie that he had to live each and every day just to survive for another meaningless 24 hours, and have to start all over again when he would rise once more and set out into a world that was against him.

The tanned one walked a little ahead of Ryou, for he was the one selecting their destination. He would occasionally peer back at his old friend, seeing Ryou's hands jammed rather carelessly into his faded Levi's pockets and his head always hung low, those auburn orbs greeting the ground with a tired gaze. Malik examined what he could see rather curiously, seeing that his build hadn't changed one bit since high school, except he had gotten a tad bit taller. He still had the same slender, rather pale arms and the same girlish legs, the same thin frame, and the same slightly pudgy cheeks. He was normal in the eyes of one who hadn't had enough time and experience to be able to look within someone and see not their eyes, no, but past that and into their soul, namely he was normal to anyone but Malik.

Despite what anyone would think, Malik's profession, as shameless as it may have seemed to those outside the box, was somewhat perfect for the blonde. With his experience in meeting people by only their looks, not charm, Malik had gained a new talent, something that was rather handy. As he danced, he would glance around the room with hungry eyes, picking and choosing who he thought would be waiting for him later on in the back room, and 99 of the time, he was right. Women with lustful hearts or men with vengeful eyes would take long strides into the dark room and only hoped that the beautiful creature they had fallen in a lustful love with could ease what loneliness they had within and make them happy. Malik could look into a frail woman's eyes and know that she hadn't ever been told that she was beautiful, and he would provide. He could look into the strong eyes of a man and see confusion, a wanting to know if the path chosen was the right path to follow, and he would assist with the decision. In the eyes of his loyal customers, he was more then entertainment, he seemed to be some sort of therapy. He could rock his hips hypnotically and console the ones who watched with hungry eyes. So, in all truth, Malik didn't mind his job. It seemed to suit him, is all.

Again, Malik looked back at Ryou, though this time, he was surprised to see that his eyes had lifted slightly. He turned quickly away to avert the gaze of the other, and he felt his cheeks burn with a fiery blush_. Get a grip, Malik. You've danced naked in front of people, had sex with strangers, and you can't even look at him without blushing. Get a hold of yourself.  
_

The ashen haired one noticed that they had stepped into the slums, the part that was forgotten by all light and joy. It was a rather morbid place, bodies decorating the streets in soundless sorrow. Shards of broken glass seeming to glow when the dim light from the dozens of bars would drench the small fragments. The streetlights, which were lacking in quantity, hummed a tune of a failed attempt to shine enough light on the town to make it see that this path would surly lead to more of the same, flickered constantly. Ryou hadn't noticed, but he let out a slight whimper, smelling nothing but death, seeing nothing but misery. This seemed to be the exact picture of the cities he would describe in his stories, but he never thought one of this magnitude existed. He never knew that there was such a place where night ruled over all and life was only an excuse to drink and bathe in self-pity. Malik glanced over his shoulder, seeing the hint of fear in the eyes of one who hadn't lived here all his life, hadn't seen all of what Malik had seen. He reached behind him and grabbed hold of Ryou's slightly trembling hand, whispering softly words of comfort.

"Just walk. Don't look at anyone or anything. We're almost to my place." Ryou nodded and swallowed hard, eyes again falling to the stained pavement. The rain continued to fall steadily, sending shivers down the writer's spine, as if they weren't already there from the setting in general. He grasped onto the muscular hand tightly, interlacing his fingers with Malik's, as if they were but a puzzle finally completed. The wave of pleasant warmth splashed over him, and Ryou finally began to feel even the least bit comfortable, as they rounded a dark corner and came upon an disheveled apartment complex, windowpanes smiling a crooked smile, most of the glass missing. The color was very dismal, a dark, unforgiving crimson, though it seemed to fit the backdrop of an ebony sky, dark clouds rolling in to cover those meddlesome stars. The brick steps were smashed, crumbs scattered amongst other random rubble, which Malik causally stepped over. Ryou did the same, mimicking Malik almost to the exact pinpointed step.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door would reveal winding, labyrinthine wooden stairs, a few missing here and there. The entire time neither one spoke as they climbed the many flights of stairs until reaching the top, which showed just as much promise as it did downstairs. Reaching into his trench coat pocket, Malik pulled out a key of rusted gold and annoyingly jammed it into the old lock. Ryou could hear the frustrated grunts as the blonde turned the key sharply to the left, the right, and back to the left. Any patience that was left in him after the five minute struggle was let out in an frustrated grunt.

"Son of a bitch!" He snarled, but soon, he felt serene and at peace, and he moments later realized that Ryou had placed his warm, alabaster hand upon his own, gripping and turning the key with Malik.

"Listen," He whispered, his breathe just teasing the tanned one's ear. "You're trying to hard. Sometimes..." A soft, satisfied click sounded as Ryou pushed the door open causally. "You don't have to try at all." Malik stood dumbfounded, jaw hanging slack. Ryou never ceased to amaze Malik.

Stepping into the darkened hallway, Malik felt his way over to a light switch and flicked it on, a bright light bathing the two. It stung, as Ryou hadn't been used to light this bright since the club, as he grunted softly, letting his chocolate orbs settle and adjust. Even with the dim lights illuminating the area, the hall was still a bit dim. Curiosity filled his mind as he scanned what was before him. It was a small hallway, at the end being two passages, one to the left and the other to the right. Along this hallway was a small coffee table, mail being scattered messily across the faded redwood. Ryou didn't have to look very hard to see in bold letters, 'OVERDUE' and 'FINAL NOTICE' on most of the letters, but that wasn't his business, was it? Beyond the small table was a line of framed photos, all of the tanned one and another being, one smaller then he, but with the same stunning eyes. The visitor looked closely at the photos, each one containing Malik with a brighter smile and the smaller being with just the same glowing radiance. The walls which the pictures were displayed was a soft creme color, though obvious spots of filth stained the wall's face, a few cracks here and there, one of which was rather noticeable, it being of four knuckles that seemed to be jammed into the surface with such a force. He looked to his feet, the hardwood floor covered with a dark lavender carpet, again, stained in a few areas. Those few blemishes didn't take away from the calm appearance. Ryou's thoughts were rattled by Malik shouting happily through the darkness.

"Sumire! I'm home!" Ryou squinted his eyes, rather perplexed. _Sumire...who's--?_

"Daddy!" Squealed a form coming from the corridor on the right, running down the hallway with bounds and leaps. A little girl, looking to be no older then five,four to be exact, giggled and squealed, her blonde locks tied back rather childishly in two violet ribbons, forming two rather messy pigtails. Her bare feet tapped against the floor, as her little lavender nightgown seemed to ripple with each step. Malik knelt down onto one knee, catching the little girl in his arms and smiling, laughing. "Daddy! You're late!" The little girl pouted mockingly, wiping a fake tear away. Malik but knew the child was joking, although it was always fun to play along. He sniffled and painted a frown across his lips.

"I know, darling, and I'm sorry." He gave her a rather sloppy kiss on her left cheek, which made her giggle. "I met an old friend, and I was talking to him." Sumire's gaze instantly traced over to Ryou's slender form, still hanging in the doorway. "Say hello, Sumire. This is my friend, Ryou. Ryou, this is my daughter, Sumire." Malik let the little girl down from his arms and she approached her father's friend rather cautiously, as did Ryou approach the little girl. Ryou took the same stance Malik had took, kneeling onto one knee. In his sweetest tone, he spoke to her.  
"Hello, Sumire. It's very nice to meet you. My name's Ryou. I wish I could say I've heard a lot about you," He threw a somewhat uncomfortable glance towards Malik, though he only retorted by mouthing the words, 'Later'. He nodded in response, and looked back to the little girl, soft amethyst eyes gazing back into his own. "But, I hope to learn about you and I hope we grow to become friends."

Her expression was apathetic, silent, before she exploded, squealed and leaped into Ryou's arms. "I like him!" She proclaimed, sloppily kissing his cheek. The ashen haired one giggled and smiled. She said nothing more as she ran off back to her room, only to have another head pop out after her disappearance. A woman with long blonde hair set loose in waves of shimmer and shine, and lively azure orbs stuck her head out from the same corridor Sumire had exited through. With a cheerful, she greeted the blonde.

"Hey, Mr. Ishtar! Didn't expect you back so early!" She emerged, clad in sweatpants and a loose T-shirt that read 'Animals Are People Too!' and had a picture of a puppy with huge auburn eyes glistening with adorable sadness. She smiled softly and looked to Malik's visitor. "Oh! And who's this, Mr. Ishtar?" The girl bowed quickly to the ashen haired one, as he only smiled nervously.

"Umako, this is a friend of mine, Ryou Bakura. Ryou, this is my neighbor and Sumire's usual babysitter, Umako."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bakura."

"Please, Ryou is fine. Nice to meet you too, Umako."

Looking over to the clock, the girl's eyes widened as she darted back into the kitchen and emerged wearing her coat. "Well, Mr. Ishtar, I'll be off now." Malik dug into his pocket, retrieving a wrinkled twenty dollar bill, but Umako giggled and declined. "No, Mr. Ishtar. You've known me since she was born. Heck, I even helped deliver her. You know I don't want your money." She flashed him a smile as she walked past the two men and left. Defeated, Malik sighed and crammed the money (His tip for the night) back into his pocket.

"I give up. That girl never takes my money. She's been watching Sumire ever since she was born." He plopped his weary body down into his worn out couch that wobbled as Malik's weight shifted. It looked as if Malik was somewhat annoyed at his fact as he lowered his head and massaged his temples vigorously. Ryou stood awkwardly in front of the tanned one, twiddling his fingers nervously. He would stand there for a few moments before Malik looked up, eyes a bit bloodshot and hair lazily hanging before those orbs. "Sit, Ryou." He obeyed, sitting at the far end of the couch, as far away from Malik as he could. Now, don't get him wrong, Ryou was very happy to see his old friend, one he might have had a crush on (No!, he would so quickly protest) and he wanted to know all of what had happened within the last five years. In his mind, it just seemed a bit awkward to be sitting in a rundown apartment, that which belonged to a stripper he knew back in high school who now had a daughter. The whole situation sounded like something he would have seen in one of those sappy daytime soap operas. As he sat, he felt the couch creek a bit as when he looked over, he saw Malik shifting towards him. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Sumire."

"Why would you have to tell me?" Ryou mumbled, looking to the ground. He could sense Malik shifting a bit closer. He then remembered he was still soiled from their previous engagement, which made Ryou blush. He had never seen anyone, anything so beautiful dance in such ways, move with such elegance, but those thoughts were hastily pushed back. "It's none of my business." He felt a soft hand upon his own, as when he looked up, all he saw was a whirlwind of violet with splashes of apprehension and pain. "M-malik?"

"I'm afraid, Ryou." With that, Malik threw himself into Ryou's lap, whimpering childishly. "Ryou, I'm afraid that I can't take care of my own daughter." His tears flowed smoothly down his cheeks and stained Ryou's shirt, though he didn't mind, as he only rubbed Malik's back, hoping to bring him at least some comfort. "This job, this house, this life...I can't take it anymore. This isn't something a little girl should have to know, that her father has sex with strangers just to be able to buy her a meal that not even the rats would eat! I wanted to give her the life I never had..."

Ryou lifted his voice above the sobs and sniffles. "Malik, she seems happy, and that's all that matters, right?"

"I know she's not happy. She has to go to school with no lunch and give excuses to her little friends when their birthday comes up, lying about why they couldn't receive a present. It's all my fault!" He wailed, burying his head further into the warmth Ryou's chest provided. His tanned skin seemed to glow under the veil of tears. Ryou took his thin, alabaster finger and placed it under Malik's chin, lifting it slowly so their eyes met.  
"Malik, your daughter loves you, you know this. Isn't that all the matters?" His thumb glided across his cheek, clearing the small stream of tears away from that face, the face that tears should never plague. "You have her, and she has you. Material possessions are only luxuries that not everyone needs. Love," He thought about it, Ryou did, as he just then contradicted everything he had ever wrote about, everything he had ever said about love being useless, meaningless, a waste of time. In Malik's eyes, he saw that it wasn't. He saw the love from his daughter was what was keeping him alive, what made him wake up every morning, something Ryou didn't have. He only had the faint hopes of love, not anything solid, like little Sumire. "is all you two need."

Malik's tears rather quickly disappeared as he gazed helplessly into Ryou's orbs. "Ryou..." He lifted himself up a bit, moving ever closer to the one opposite him, though this time, Ryou didn't move, didn't flinch. They moved closer and closer still, eyes fluttering shut. They were but inches away, lips just moments away from became meeting in a passionate embrace, until a whimper came from the doorway. They quickly retracted their lips as Sumire held tightly to a small lavender blanket. Regained composure rather quickly, Malik smiled softly and rose, kneeling in front of his little angel. "What's wrong, princess? That dream again?" She nodded as he scooped her up in his strong arms. "Excuse me for a minute, Ryou." He disappeared into a small room, Ryou being left a bit dumbfounded on the couch.

_Did we almost...no! I mean, I wouldn't have minded...No! Ryou, stop it. It's hopeless. You'll never find a love that's worth having. You'll always be alone._ Just then, he heard soft murmurs coming from the room Malik had disappeared into, as curiosity struck him. He rose and took small, soft steps through the corridor and hung in the doorway, seeing Malik hovering over a small mattress on the floor of a room with chipped brown paint. He heard him whispering softly words of contentment to the little girl.

"One day, Sumire, we'll live on a farm with lots of different animals. Cows, chickens, pigs,"

"A horse for me and daddy?"

Malik smiled, kissing her forehead. "Yes, and a horse for you and me." Her eyes then fluttered shut as he drifted back into a sanctum of dreams. Sighing deeply, Malik fiddled with his little girl's bangs.

"Malik?" Ryou whispered, Malik peering at him over his shoulder. "I-I think I should g--"

"Her mother left when she was about one. She didn't give a shit about anyone. It was all about her, how she wanted to become an actress, a star. She thought I could make it happen for her, because what's an actress without a man to drag through stardom? She stayed with me throughout high school, and in our senior year, in about June, she told me she was pregnant." He seemed to chuckle softly, still stroking Sumire's hair. "I couldn't believe it. It seemed like I had it all, a girlfriend I loved and a baby on the way. It seemed like a dream, but it quickly turned into a nightmare. About five months into the pregnancy, she wanted to get an abortion because she thought it would ruin her nonexistent career, but I refused. I wouldn't let her kill our baby, my baby. We fought back and forth for the remaining five months, until my little angel was born. I fell in love with her from the moment I saw her come out. My girlfriend didn't have the same feelings. About two weeks after Sumire was born, she packed up and left me alone, left her daughter. It's been about four years since I've heard from her, and I hope I never do. If she would have stayed, maybe Sumire could have a normal life and not have to wonder if the reason why mommy left was her." He rose and looked to Ryou. "It was my fault that bitch left. If I would have been a better boyfriend, she wouldn't have left her own child to rot in a place like this."

Ryou felt his own form tremble a bit, hearing this story that seemed to be too horrifying for words. "M-malik.."

"I'll understand if you want to leave, Ryou. My problems aren't your business, and I doubt you want to hear anymore."

"No, Malik...I..."

"I mean, I shouldn't have just broke into the story like that. It's just a sob story, nothing more. I should be more considerate and--"

"Malik, I want you and Sumire to live with me..."

---

Whoa! What a cliffhanger, ne? I've been ending a lot of my stories like that lately. Gomen. ; Anyway, haven't started on Chapter 4 yet, but I hope you all look forward to it. Ja and Merry Christmas!!!!


	4. Reacquainted Stranger

Okay...um...HEY GUYS! hehe. Um...to put to bluntly, I think this chapter isn't as good as all the others, and I'm sorry:Bows: I just have a lot of things on my mind right now and I wanted to rush a chapter out so I didn't get beheaded...:points to Terri and smiles: Anyway, shoutout time! 

LadywolfTerri: My number one fan :Tackles: Malik's answer at first is like O.O but...eh...stupid head Malik should know better! Anyway, just like last chapter, this is just for Terri, since she's the one who will constatnly IM me and beg for it :3

KitsuneNekoYoukai: Hi hi to you too :3 I'm glad you like the story and I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

trekkie-54: hehe, yes, Ryou is really cool in this story. Unlike how the Americans portray him as the kind, shy, and gentle little Brit...but hey, I can deal...hehe..Thanks for reading!

Ange of Faith: Thanks for reading! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Well, here's Chapter 4 of 'This Is What I Call Life'! Enjoy!

**:DISCLAIMER:**  
Malik: Okay...Kei doesn't own me and Ryou, but the character of Sumire is hers.  
Sumire: DADDY:Tackles:  
Malik: Heh...enjoy.

**Chapter 4: Reacquainted Stranger**

Malik's jaw hung slack as the world seemed to endlessly turn, dizzying visions cascading before his violet eyes. Was he hearing this? Was this all a dream? Yes, that's it, a dream, nothing more. It was so clear! He hadn't just spilled his entire past to someone he had known for a few moments and in the past, shared only a few words with, and that same person hadn't just extended a saintly hand, offering a new home, and maybe even a new life. This was all just a big illusion that would seen come to a crashing, booming halt, cue the tanned one jolting up from the couch in a cold sweat, panting. It was the same every time something nice would present itself, he would wake up and find himself lost in the same darkness, never finding the light to guide his desolate path. But this time, it seemed that Malik didn't want to wake up. He tried everything to wake up from this thought of dream, but nothing would shake him. The tanned one knew this may have been real when he heard a soft voice and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Malik, did you hear me?" Apparently, minutes had past and all Ryou could see is Malik standing there, wavering a bit in his stance, a look of deep thought consuming his face. Ryou's soft smile was still painted across his lips delicately as he repeated himself, something Malik could only wish for. "I want you and Sumire to come and stay with me"

"Ryou, of course not!" The ashen haired one's eyes widened. His offer was just shot down? Even Malik couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth. He shook his head, a now stubborn tone of voice taking place of the one of sheer disbelief. "Ryou, I barley know you. Who am I to think you're not some serial rapist or something, that the minute I turn my back, you won't have my way with my daugh-" What happened next, Malik deserved, oh boy, did he deserve it. Ryou had advanced upon Malik and with an open palm, burning with anger, he slapped Malik clear across the face, each slender finger leaving their mark along the Egyptian's caramel colored cheek. He stood there in shock, as now it was time for Ryou to bare his ivory fangs and snarl, hiss at the one who had thought to little of him.

"Malik, I can't believe you would think something like that of me! I mean, I know in this world, there aren't many you can trust, but all I have done was show you kindness and this is what you think of me!" He seemed rather upset by the comment, his body trembling in a nervous rage. Why a nervous rage, some would ask, but all in all, no matter how much he tried to avoid saying so, Ryou hated confrontations. He was just one to say the big words, never back them up. He continued, his breathing picking up a bit. "All I want to do is help you and your daughter! That's it! I know what it's like only living with one parent cause my Goddamned father left me and my mother long ago! It's something I hated seeing, a child growing up with only one parent, and I want to help you! I know I can never be a mother or father to Sumire, but I can try to help her..." He didn't know why, the reason would never present itself, but Ryou felt the warmth of tears collecting in his eyes, a few escaping down his cheek. No, he wouldn't reason with him. Ryou knew what Malik thought of him and that's it. Angrily, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, and despite that fact that all he did was write off and on, he was pretty, to put it bluntly, loaded. His mother, the kind woman that she was, supported her baby boy even outside their home, and much to Ryou's chagrin, sent him money every two weeks, and a hefty sum at that. Ryou's mother had injured herself, and was collecting a rather large sum of money, so what better way to spend it then to support her starving artist son!

"R-ryou, what are you doing?"

From out of the wallet, two fifty dollar bills were pulled with ease (Being the neat freak he was, all of his money was categorized from greatest to least in numerical order). Malik's eyes only followed his actions as the other man threw down the money at his feet. "Paying my whore. Since I can't reason with you, I'm not going to waste my time talking to something denser then the foundation this hellhole was built on!" His voice trembled with the failure of lending a helping hand. He had never been more insulted, and he didn't know why it hurt so much to be turned down to someone who would consider him on to attack small children. Something about that just seemed to strike a cord, so Ryou would simply leave, forget everything he saw today, forget everything he heard, but one thing he knew he could never forget was the tanned figure that haunted his visions, the plague that beautifully took over his mind, body, and soul, crept deep into his head, and began to fester and consume all of his being. All of this threw Malik into a state of stunned silence. He swallowed hard and began to rewind, fast forward, rewind, fast forward, pause, and see the look on Ryou's face, one of the sincerest of agony and the purest pain, drained right from the heart. Malik couldn't believe it! Someone was crying, and crying for him. Maybe it was exactly for Malik, maybe it was for the little girl who lived a life unsuited, but still, his face was still scattered amongst Ryou's thoughts, and this made the strong tanned one sniffle a bit. Lifting his face, sadly, he only saw Ryou's back as he stormed towards the door.

"Ryou, wait."

"No, Malik. Don't even try it now! I made my offer an..."

"I'd be honored if you allowed me and Sumire to stay with you...please." Ryou halted, in both movement and speech and stood facing away from Malik. He couldn't reveal the tears that trickled down his cheeks, and he couldn't explain why. He didn't know why he cried for something so trivial as a rejected housing proposal. Something within him just seemed to ache, seem to shatter as he was so hastily turned down. He, Malik, was nothing more then a reacquainted stranger, nothing more then a face in the crowd that just so happened to walk by once more, and why did Ryou feel the need to want to continue to see that face over and over again? Slowly, Ryou turned to face Malik, and as if but a brilliant act, he smiled as if nothing were the matter, but deep inside, Ryou jumped for joy as now, he wouldn't have to live alone, though he thought, since when did that ever bother me? Another question with no possible answer that would make sense to Ryou even now.

"I'm glad you finally see it my way." A facade, an act executed perfectly, as a little bit of that sarcasm that had been absent returned. Within, he let out a sigh of relief, knowing that this would be a journey on a road less traveled, but often looked at. "Tomorrow, I'll come by with a few of my friends, and we'll start the move. I'll be here ar-" Before Ryou could utter the final words of his sentence, he felt a pair of strong arms embrace him, a warm sensation running up and down his spine. He felt his stomach tie itself into oversized knots. The ashen haired one was rather stunned, as he stood motionless for a moment, until he wrapped his arms around the other, embracing him rather gently.

"Ryou, thank you. I-I couldn't' have asked for any more of you. You have saved my daughter and me...thank you. I am forever in your debt." Speechless, Ryou let his jaw hang slack before he mentally slapped himself and regained that solemn composure. "No problem, Malik. If anything, it is I who is in your debt..."

"No, Ryou...you've done more for me..."

"But, Malik, if you hadn't helped me..."

"Listen..." Malik pulled away and grabbed Ryou's hand, grasping it tightly within both of his. Even the slightest touch made Ryou's heart began to race, and he still had not the slightest clue why! Sighing softly, he let go of Ryou's hand and now extended one finger, his pinkie, as he looked up to Ryou with a juvenile smile. "Sumire and I always do this. If I make a promise to her, or she to me, we always pinkie swear it. I don't know why," He chuckled, blushing a bit at how childish he thought he sounded. "It's just, when we pinkie swear on something, it always works." Ryou looked at him, a bit dumbfounded, as Malik was muttering, mumbling, stammering, and slurring his works, but he roughly got the idea as he extended his slender finger to Malik's and hugged his pinkie to Malik's. Together, as odd as it sounded, they recited the same two words that would seem to seal their newly formed bond.

"We're even."

* * *

Ryou left the rundown little apartment, refusing Malik's invitation to be escorted. He knew Malik's place, and that was to watch over little Sumire as she slept peacefully, unaware of the new changes that were about to take place. He had pondered this quite thoroughly, wondering how Sumire would react to moving away, leaving her friends and beginning and new life with another man in her father's life. No! Not that way! He thought, knowing that his thoughts were a bit suggestive. He knew that even if he tried, or wanted to, he could never take the place of a mother in Sumire's heart. He didn't want to, nor did he have right to! He just wanted to give Sumire a better life then Malik could provide. 

_Such cruel thoughts! Ryou, how could you even think things like that! Malik is trying as hard as he can, and there you go with the insults!_

He nodded in agreement with his mind, quickening his pace. Ryou knew that Malik's profession was one to be looked down upon, but he seemed to be good at it, so why did it matter? As long as it put food on the table, right?

_Good, Ryou. You're finally starting to see that Malik is sacrificing his body, his pride, to feed his daughter. It's not like he wants to do what he's doing. Maybe it's his only choice  
_  
Could have been. Either way, Malik supported Sumire alone for this long, and it was time for Malik to have a little assistance. Ryou remembered quite vividly the hardships his mother and himself had to face when his father decided parenting wasn't his scene, and left...almost exactly how Sumire's mother left her. They weren't so different, Sumire and Ryou, a common bond of a fled parent would hold them together, and make Ryou further believe that he would be one to help Sumire and her father, and give them a better life.

He returned home at about four in the morning, fatigued in both mind and body, as he nestled into his bed. He remembered the bills sitting upon the table, knowing that his two guests would need the heat, the lights, and most other things Ryou didn't necessarily need. He would send them out tomorrow morn...err...in a few hours, and everything would be ready for their arrival. He would only rest his eyes briefly, he told himself, before venturing off to start a new journey, but he wouldn't be alone this time. He would have two new companions, those he hoped would be better acquaintances then the night.

Ryou felt into a somber slumber, knowing full well that he, like Malik had done, would have to make sacrifices, but he knew that they'd be well worth it.


End file.
